Lamb
by color2413
Summary: Heero unravels and disappears after the Eve War ends. Can Duo find him and what will happen if he does? Rated M for language and non-explicit BL content. Pairings: 2x1, 3x4, 5xS.
1. Chapter 1

**Lamb**

_C'mon c'mon and bury your question in my heart  
Give me your hand, we can love  
Angel blow the one eternal note  
Call all the lambs outta the poolhalls_

_God and Christ hold the one cue  
While the Holy Spirit spits out the score  
There's no more question now  
c'mon I'm here  
Angel blow the one last note  
that sets your heart on fire..._

_I'm here  
My face cut from the air  
out of nowhere  
I'm here  
Think of what I used to say  
lying there next to you  
Elijah came out my mouth:  
When life's possessions wear you down  
I'll be 'round  
I'll be 'round_

_Well it's been goin' on  
for such a long time now  
Come carve your name in my heart_

_You'll be the one I'm thinking of  
when the last legion's angels  
come blastin' through the sky..._

-GD

~AC198~

In mid-September the last heat wave of the season had passed. The days were growing shorter; summer was winding down swiftly.

The sun turned red as it dipped toward the horizon, illuminating the town with a painterly glow. A grubby, tired Duo Maxwell was making his way home from MacTavish Salvage Co. to his one-bedroom apartment. His employer valued Duo's technical expertise and his quickness in disassembling rusting Tauruses and Leos, as well as his ability to dispatch more mundane vehicles of every stripe. But in the two years since Heero had disappeared after that awful night, right after the Eve War, Duo had lost his bubbly energy and enthusiasm for living. His friends could see it in his carriage and in the violet eyes that seemed somehow faded, like the color pictures in an old Victorian storybook.

It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. After Heero's disappearance, Duo went out of his way to socialize, hanging out and meeting new people. The regulars at Steeltoe, his favorite bar, knew his predilection for young, blue-eyed Asian men, but there were few candidates and even fewer that received more than five minutes of his time. Of those, none seemed to get further than a conversation at the local coffee bar. Duo seemed perpetually frustrated and had become notorious for excusing himself prematurely, telling his disappointed dates that he had to work early the next day. No one understood what was on the braided American's mind and no one could honestly claim to have shared his bed. Word around Steeltoe was that there was something wrong with the 18-year-old heartbreaker and that going out with him was a recipe for frustration.

'Man, they don't know the half of it,' thought Duo, morosely, as he trudged along the street that led to the bland complex where he lived, an easy walk from the shop. 'When you've already found your soulmate and shared two years of experiences so intense that they're entirely off most peoples' scales, no one else can even_think_of measuring up. They so completely don't get it, there's no way I could _start_ to explain it. The wusses I keep meeting were still living with mommy and daddy back then. Or they thought the hardest thing in life was acing their calculus final. Most of them thought that the war was some kind of giant video game, or a television show with a few thrills and chills, and a happy ending. They have NO idea how expensive that happy ending really was.'

Duo's mood darkened as he continued home to a nondescript apartment that he shared with no one at all.

'Why the _hell_ did that goddamn bastard have to disappear? For all I know, he's fuckin' _dead_ by now,' he thought angrily.

Duo's eyes suddenly stung and he shook his head to try and dispel the gathering storm inside.

'Shit! This is getting me exactly nowhere. ENOUGH! STOP IT, Maxwell! Just _quit_, already!'

The neighborhood liquor store appeared on the left and Duo stopped in to buy a microwave dinner and a six-pack. Alcohol usually distracted him slightly but his instinct for self-preservation kicked in and told him that it would be _real_ easy for the drinking to get out of hand. He was stronger than that, wasn't he? He was former Gundam pilot, after all, and he wasn't about to become a lush.

At the last moment, he put the beer back in the cooler, paid for the cardboard meal, and made his way home.

It didn't take long to unlock the door, turn on the lights, and pop the plastic dinner in the microwave. Then he had to face the problem of how to spend the evening.

'Going out is such a waste! I had a hard day at work, so fuck it—I think I'll skip another Friday night in paradise. Lessee...I'll make that all-white-meat chicken-dinner-with-mashed-potatoes-and-gravy-and-faux-garden-vegetables the highlight of my evening. If I'm lucky, maybe there's something decent on cable. Then bed sounds pretty good.'

But his bed betrayed him. At 4AM, he jerked awake, soaked with sweat. He'd had that nightmare, _again_—Heero lying, bloody and dying, on the frozen ground, surrounded by dirty snow, under a bleak gray sky. He remembered Heero's final, rattling breath, his blue eyes turning blank and opaque. Duo recalled how the dream had paralyzed him—how he frantically tried to use every iota of will just to move his legs but couldn't struggle even one centimeter closer to his failing partner. Amazed, Duo realized that he was crying uncontrollably in the darkness of his little apartment. He was curled into a fetal position and shaking as if he were the one freezing in that vast desolation. Worse, he understood with icy clarity that there was no one there to hear him.

He slowly escaped from the horror of the dream.

'Maxwell, it's time to call Quatre. This is nuts, man. Ya gotta _do_ something.'

But he hadn't the slightest idea what.

Duo woke to a crisp, sunny Saturday morning. The nightmare had left him with a haunting psychic hangover, but he forced himself to do his standard workout with the weight set he kept in his living room. He then followed up with a shower and breakfast.

Duo waited until 10AM to call Quatre's private home number on the vidphone. He suspected that the head of Winner Enterprises would be taking a little downtime at home on Saturday morning. Luckily for him, the blond ex-pilot answered on the third ring. The grainy image on the screen broke into a wide smile.

"Duo! It's great to see you! How goes it?"

"Hey Quatre! How's it hangin', good buddy?" he said.

"Ummm...Duo, to tell you the truth, I haven't actually checked it out this morning..."

Quatre made a show of glancing down in the general direction of his belt buckle, then melodramatically put his hand over his mouth.

"...Argh! Duo! I think someone's stolen it!"

It felt great to be bantering with a member of the old team, and Duo's face relaxed into something resembling his old grin. "Hey Q-man, I know Trowa stole your _heart_, but don'tcha think this is goin' a little too far!"

The little blond snickered. "Yeah, Duo. Maybe just a little..."

"Well, _I_ heard it wasn't so little at all!" riposted Duo. "I hope he's taking good care of it for ya! Keepin' ya warm at night and..."

Duo grabbed the salt shaker from his kitchen table, wiggled his hips, and sang into its perforated chrome top, "...givin' ya lots of that good, good lovin'... Good lovin'!"

Duo was delighted to see the blond Arabian blush even through the crappy five-bit color palette of the vidphone.

"So seriously, Q, how are you and Trowa doin'?" he asked.

"We're doing great. _Trowa's_ doing great. He's not here right now, though. There's this huge new hardware store in town—one of those big warehouses—and he got an early start down there. Trowa loves getting lost among the power tools."

"Oh yeah?" smirked Duo. "Just _w__hose_ power tools does he like, Q? Bet it's not the ones they sell down there, now is it?"

Quatre shrugged off the teasing.

"Duo, it's amazing how domestic he's gotten since we've been living together. When he gets time off from the Preventers, he _loves_ to fix things. He's actually gotten into building furniture, and it's looking better and better the more he does it.

"He's starting to do reproductions of old pieces in the American Federal style. Maybe his experience being a convincing fake OZ soldier helps him build convincing fake antiques—who knows? Anyway, it makes him feel really good to create beautiful things instead of destroying them as we all did in the war. You know, we all could use a little comfort like that."

"Cool!" said Duo. "Trowa as master carpenter. Never thought he had it in him. But none us knew how we were going to cope with peace once we'd finally won it. And yeah, you're right about that comfort thing..."

Duo suddenly became aware of baroque music playing in the background behind Quatre, and, even through the tinny speaker of the vidphone, he was transfixed by the mixture of rich, old instruments and a soaring chorus, singing in interweaving, intricate four-part counterpoint.

"Hey Q! What's that music you're playing? It's really cool."

"Duo, that's Johann Sebastian Bach's 'St. Matthew Passion'. It's very old and very profound. Even though Bach and I come from completely different religions, listening to that music always makes me feel closer to the spirit of the Divine.

"There are always surprises in Bach, and part of the surprise is that the surprise itself is always flawless. It's like a diamond with an infinite number of facets, and no matter how deeply you look into it, you never really exhaust its possibilities. It's just awesome to study his scores, and to..."

With half an ear, Duo listened to Quatre, always the musician, rattle on about viola da gambas and natural horns and continuo and tracker organs and figured bass and counterpoint, while, simultaneously, the music entered Duo and built a towering, ghostly cathedral in his mind, with the sun backlighting great stained glass windows that were on fire with the crimson blood of Christ's crucifixion. It brought to mind a far more modest church long ago in his blighted childhood and he felt a little stab in his chest when he realized that he'd been neglecting some important things for far too long.

Finally, Duo pulled himself out of his reverie and turned his attention back to Quatre as the blond boy said, "Bach was a Protestant, you know. But five hundred years after his death, it doesn't seem to matter at all."

Duo gave a little sigh as he descended slowly back to earth.

"But anyway..."

"Quatre, I'm sure you guessed that I didn't really call to discuss your love life and then get seduced by Bach. I had this horrible dream last night, _again_, where Heero was lying somewhere in the middle of some frozen landscape, bleeding to death. He died in front of my eyes, and it was one of those dreams where I couldn't move a muscle," Duo said, and then looked back at Quatre.

"I know it's been a long time, but I wondered if you'd heard anything about Heero. Anything at all. I think it's beginning to get to me, not knowing if he's dead or alive."

Quatre's warm face grew deadly serious.

"Duo, forgive me for asking, but did you ever sleep with Heero during the war?"

Duo blinked at the seeming non sequitur. "Huh? Wait a minute Quatre—that's something that's really personal. How come you're asking me _that_?"

"Duo, I'm sorry, but I think it's truly important. Just bear with me, OK?"

Duo paused for a moment, and sighed. "Fuck...Yeah, Q, I slept with him. More than once. The ol' soldiers comforting each other on the battlefield sort of thing, ya know..."

Quatre's retort cut sharp and deep. "That's _bullshit_, Duo. It was a thousand times more than that. Remember Duo, I can feel things through my uchuu no kokoro. I could sense how you felt every time you were with him. Every time you _looked_ at him, Duo. And what's more, I could feel something within him too. It was hard for me to interpret, but it almost felt like something struggling to escape. I really think he was trying to respond to you, but his emotions were paralyzed by something deep inside his guts. He was fighting it hard but he was losing. I'd put money on that something's being J's little science project. In fact, I think you could take it to the bank."

Duo virtually spat out his contempt. "That _motherfucker_. That cybernetic freak _bastard_. To think that I called those so-called scientists my allies, and J had to screw Heero up like that..."

Duo took a deep breath and shivered a little.

"Oh man! Two years ago I got a _real_ big hint about what J had done to him."

"Duo," Quatre said, "Except for Heero, I've kept tabs on all of the Gundam team since the war. I guess it goes with that strategy thing that everyone always said I was good at. I know you're struggling. You've _got_ to miss him big-time. It's messing you up, Duo, and it sucks. You've been my friend for a long time, and I _hate_ what you're going through."

Quatre paused. He knew it was time to ask the Big Question:

"Duo, do you have any idea why he disappeared?"

Duo turned pale. The question pulled him, like one of his nightmares, back to one of the worst nights of his life.

"Yeah, Q. I do," he said. "It's all starting to make sense now, although nothing at all made sense when it was happening."

"It was a couple of weeks after the end of the Eve War. We'd already blown up the Gundams, and realized that we had to get on with our lives. Heero had been guarding Relena for those few weeks. Then, one night he showed up at my room. I was still in temporary quarters, trying to find a place to settle down. I don't know how he found me so easily, but you know Heero," he said.

Duo paused, and then took a deep breath before continuing.

"He acted completely crazy, Q," he said. "He was going on and on about being a loaded weapon who was useless outside of war and how he should be decommissioned just like the Gundams now that we'd won the peace. He said he was a heartless, dangerous killer. I'd never seen him cry before, but he was coming totally unglued. I could sense that he was planning to self-destruct, and I begged, pleaded, argued, cajoled, and did everything in my power to try to save his life. I've never felt so helpless, ever. Ever! Nothing I said seemed to get through to that mysterious, untouchable center of his.

"Finally, I put my arms around him and kissed him hard as I could. It was the only thing I hadn't tried and I was amazed when he actually responded to me after all the insanity. The kiss must have broken through to someplace deeper than I could ever go with all my worthless pleading. All of that endless blathering chatter! All those panicked words, and one kiss was more powerful than any of them," he said as the painful memory pounded him like a migraine.

Duo paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and then continued. "It certainly wasn't the first time we'd made love, but it ended up being so much more passionate that I still think about it every single day, even though it hurts like a motherfucker when I do. It seemed like some barrier had gone defective inside him, and his conditioning was breaking down. But it wasn't breaking down in a controlled or benign way at all. Emotions were roaring out of him like a tidal wave, totally out of control, and I almost ended up drowning in them.

"Part of it was the most passionate sex you could ever imagine, but, for me, it was overlaid with this panic and horror. It felt as if his heart had stopped, and somehow, if I gave him enough of my love, I could bring him back to life. It was beyond intense. We made love for hours, not stopping for anything, and finally, very late, we both passed out from pure exhaustion," Duo said, overwhelmed by the memory.

"When I woke up the next morning, he was gone," he concluded. "There was no note...nothing. Not a hint of what had happened to him, where he went, or even if he was dead or alive. Nothing."

'_...and I lay face-down on his side of the bed, where his scent still lingered, and cried harder than I ever had in my life..._'

"Q, I've heard nothing since. I always thought he went to finish what he had started. I thought I was able to delay it for just that one night, but that was all. I was sure I had lost him, and that he was dead, and that I had failed because I couldn't save him. Q...oh God..._I couldn't save him_."

Quatre stared at Duo, appalled at what his friend had gone through. "Duo, I'm _so_ sorry. All of us foolishly keep secrets from one another and this is one I wish you'd told me about a long time ago, because I can tell you one thing for sure—_Heero's not dead_."

Duo gasped almost inaudibly and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I would have felt it if he had died anywhere, whether here on earth or in space, and that just never happened," Quatre said. "I don't have any idea where he is, but I think one of us might. I don't think you're going to like who it is."

Quatre was astonished at how fast Duo's expression changed from reprieved to royally pissed off.

"Wufei! Mr. Justice! Mr. Stick-As-Big-As-A-Telephone-Pole-Up-His-Ass-Straight-Boy! And I'm going to have to get down on my knees and go crawling to Mr. Learned Chinese Scholar and beg him to help me! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" Duo spat, furious. He glared at the vidphone's little screen.

"Quatre, _when did you know_?" he growled.

Duo's anger stunned Quatre. "Actually, believe it or not, it was yesterday when Wufei finally spilled it," he carefully replied. "For a long time, I'd been sensing that he was hiding something important from me and I felt that he really needed to let it out. So, I finally decided to push him..._hard_, and I got him to hint that he knew something about where Heero was. But that was it. Not a whisper more. Heero must have sworn him to silence. And you know about Wufei and honor. He'd sooner fall on his sword than break a vow. All these damn secrets..."

"Wufei and his fuckin' honor, man!" Duo said, tightly. "You mean to tell me that for two fuckin' years I've been going through hell because of _his_ goddamn compulsive good-for-nothing honor?

"And now I find out that Heero's alive, and Wufei holds the key to wherever he is and he just swallowed it? And all because of his fuckin' honor? That's _bullshit_, Quatre!" Duo snarled.

"Duo, he's changed a lot in the two years since the war," Quatre said, "A _lot_. Did you know he finally married again?"

"_Married_? To who, Mother Theresa?" Duo sneered.

"No, Duo," Quatre said, ignoring the sarcasm, "To Sally. He finally forgave himself for Meiran's death and allowed himself a little happiness. They're expecting a child. You should go see him," said the blond pilot. "And leave your attitude at the front gate. He's a different person now. In fact, I think this is so important that we should _all_ go and see him. You, me, and Trowa—_tonight_. I don't think we should let this fester even one day longer."

"Yeah, Q, it'll be just like old home week at the veterans' hospital," Duo said, continuing to rant. "The giant robot killers' reunion. Drinks are on the house, and be sure to wipe your feet so you don't get more bloodstains on the carpet."

The normally diplomatic Quatre had had enough. "Sheesh, Duo, just calm down and give me a break. You're acting like a ten-year old kid having a bad day. We're gonna back you up. Wufei's a decent man. In fact, he's more than decent. That honor thing has an upside too."

For once, Duo was silent. His adrenaline high had burned out and he was nervous as a caged dog at the pound.

That afternoon, Duo hopped a commuter shuttle that took him to Denver, home city of the regional Preventer headquarters. Quatre and Trowa met him at the airport, and the trio soon took off to Wufei and Sally's modest house in the Denver suburbs, about 20 miles from the airport. "Took off" was the appropriate phrase because Quatre drove like a maniac—the former Sandrock pilot evidently underwent a Zero-System-like personality change behind the wheel—and the other two spent most of their time scanning the road behind them for the local constabulary. Each of the visitors felt jittery, not only because Quatre was driving at a speed so insane that he should have been committed, but also because they knew they were visiting Wufei with the sole purpose of persuading him to break his pledge to Heero. Never had the former pilots been involved in such a strange mission—one that involved persuading one of their own to violate beliefs that lay at the very core of his persona.

Wufei greeted them at the front door.

"Winner. Barton. Maxwell. It's been some time. Please, come in. Sally—look who's here!" he said, affably.

The niceties and small talk masked a chalk-screeching-on-the-blackboard tension that Quatre felt but didn't understand. It buzzed around them all like mosquitoes at a midsummer barbeque.

Duo didn't wait long to cut to the chase.

Without a trace of a smile, he said, "Hey, Wu-man, I didn't know you'd gone and married Sally! When did that happen?"

"It was four months ago, Duo. We're expecting a baby in another six months."

"Huh. Fast worker, aren'tcha, Wufei? So how come I wasn't invited to the wedding? Did ya think that a _faggot_ would spoil it for ya? Rape the altar boy? Contaminate the cake, or somethin'? After all, that's what you called me, wasn't it—a _faggot_?"

Quatre gasped. 'So _that's_ what Duo's anger was all about! Merciful God, I can understand why!' he thought.

None of them had ever seen the perennially self-confident Chinese boy as flustered as was right then. "No, Duo...I...uh..." Wufei stammered.

Duo glared at him.

"Duo," he said, beginning again. "I just didn't want to face you after I had said those words. I was weak and wrong. Please forgive me, Duo. I am _truly_ sorry for what I said."

Duo came back flat and hard. "But I bet you still _think_ it, don'tcha Wufei?"

"No, Duo, really I don't. I was a fool for saying those words, and even more of a fool for believing them when I said them." Wufei looked at Duo directly.

"Duo, I was only 16 years old," he continued. "Each one of us is the creation of our families and training and childhood. Me, probably more than anyone. If you've never had contact with a Chinese extended family, you have no idea of the pressures that they put on their sons to conform to their culture. I was taught that what you were doing was unclean and that anyone who did it should be severely punished. It took a long time for me to force my own eyes open and see that part of what my family taught me was just dead wrong."

"What do you mean Wufei, 'What I was doing'!" Duo spat out. He could hear and feel his voice shaking, but had to go on. "Do you think I was running around fucking everything with two legs and a dick!"

"Yeah, Wufei, I'm a big queer," he said, feeling his chest tighten. His words seemed to catch in his throat and he felt like he was tumbling down into some dark, cold place. "But there was only one person that I ever wanted and ever cared for and ever made love to. And he's been missing for two years!"

Feeling himself on the verge of tears, Duo turned on his heel, braid whipping around him, and ran out the front door. He slammed it so hard that the house shook on its foundation.

Sally's jaw dropped in dismay and Trowa just stared at the floor, looking miserable. Playing ambassador, Quatre tried to defuse things. "I'm sorry, Wufei. Duo's been going through a very bad time. He called me this morning to tell me about the horrifying nightmares he'd had. In them, Heero lies bleeding to death in some frozen landscape while Duo is absolutely immobilized and unable to intervene.

"He also told me what happened the last time he'd seen Heero, a few weeks after the Eve War. Heero came to him all crazy and suicidal. After every attempt to get through to him with words had failed, Duo made love to him. That's what stopped Heero from running out and self-destructing. Can you imagine ever making love to someone as if his life depended on it? Because that's what happened," Quatre said.

"Before Duo woke up, Heero vanished. It was as if he'd never been there. That whole night and the next morning were emotionally devastating for Duo because he'd been in love with Heero for years. And he's been quietly hurting ever since."

Wufei looked somber. "I think I'm finally beginning to put some of the pieces together. Quatre, could you please go outside and persuade Duo to come back in? Do whatever it takes. Tell him I'm more sorry than he could ever know. And that I have something important to tell him."

Quatre nodded and then turned to go find Duo.

Outside, Duo stood in the front yard, his tear-stained face looking up at the stars. Huge and bloody, the gibbous moon, not yet exsanguinated by its journey across the heavens, glowered on the eastern horizon. Two of the colonies were visible, fixed against the stars in the night sky, shining brighter than Venus.

Quatre put his hand on Duo's shoulder. Formally, he said, "Duo, Wufei is feeling great remorse for the pain that his words have caused you. He asked me to invite you back in, because he has something vital to tell you."

Duo's anger had burned out and he felt bone-tired. His blistering confrontation with Wufei had left him oddly shaken. "OK, Quatre," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I went off on him like that. I guess things have just been building up inside me. I didn't mean to ruin this trip after all the trouble you went through just to set it up. It was stupid of me to throw a tantrum."

Quatre breathed a small sigh of relief and squeezed Duo's shoulder to comfort him. Silently, the two turned and walked back.

Standing by the front door, Wufei watched as they approached. "Please Duo. Come back in. We all did more than enough fighting back when we were soldiers. We don't need to fight anymore, especially among ourselves," he said.

Duo swallowed hard and nodded once as they moved back into the living room.

Wufei took a deep breath, and then began. "What I see in this room are five of the most important people in my life. Four of them have found life mates and a decent measure of happiness. One of them is lonely and hurting because there should be a sixth one present, but he's not here.

"Duo, two years ago Heero came to me, deranged and broken. Quatre told me what happened the night before and I now understand that, if it wasn't for you, Heero wouldn't have come to me at all because he would have been dead."

Wufei's demeanor and tone were somber as he continued. "Duo, I thank you for saving Heero's life. I think your love for him is as honorable a thing as I have ever seen."

"I didn't know it, but Heero had been watching my meditations and my tai chi exercises for a long time, even though he had never discussed them with me. He told me that he felt like a dangerous, out-of-control weapon—a blade hanging over the heads of innocents. He wanted to find tranquility through some sort of life discipline...to replace his soldier's obedience with something else applicable to his existence in the civilian world. He thought that perhaps I could teach him what he required.

"What Heero needed, however, was far more than what I could teach him. I wasn't a master; I was just an acolyte. He wanted to withdraw from the world until he could learn what he needed to reintegrate his personality. So I told him that for hundreds of years, my family had had connections to a Buddhist monastery about 50 klicks southeast of Katmandu, near a small town called Bhatgaon. I said that if he wanted to seek enlightenment and to find peace, that his best hope was to go there and submit himself to the monks' instruction," Wufei explained.

"I wrote out a recommendation using my family's name and gave it to him. Then he swore me to secrecy. He said that until he was ready, he didn't want to be found by anyone from his old life. He left the same day, and I've heard nothing from him since.

"Duo, the place where Heero was going doesn't accept tourists. It's a place of deep seriousness and dedication. If he stayed, he would have had to commit his life to monastic discipline. If he's still there, he's probably a different person—perhaps one that you don't even know anymore.

"But two years can change a lot of things, and I think you need to go and try to find him, for your sake, and maybe for his. I don't think he ever understood how much you love him. That's why I broke my promise to him tonight, because I do understand," Wufei said, now able to meet Duo's eyes without pain.

Duo sighed. "Thank you, Wufei. I know how hard it was for you to break your vow. You don't know how much I appreciate it—it excuses your earlier words a thousandfold," he said solemnly.

A week later, Duo finished his preparations for the long trip to Nepal. He took vacation time from MacTavish Salvage, and Quatre arranged transport to Katmandu. For once, Duo swallowed his pride and accepted the expensive ticket.

To prevent ecological damage, nearly all commercial air transport was subsonic (and had been so ever since the dawn of aviation, centuries earlier), so the journey to Nepal was long and arduous, with stops in London and Bombay. The trip from Katmandu to Bhatgaon was by rickety, ancient, wheezing bus, filled with exotic-looking people and livestock. It struck Duo as being a rolling future headline: "Forty-Five Nepalese, Twenty-Six Chickens, and One Ex-Gundam Pilot Killed in Bus Explosion." Nevertheless, by some miracle, the belching, backfiring contraption deposited Duo in the Bhatgaon town square a mere five hours after its shuddering launch from the capital city. His body felt like he'd just been through a three-hour battle with OZ's finest pilots. It was not helped by the 2600-meter elevation that thinned and chilled the air, or by the butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the prospect of...of what? Would Heero even _be_ there? What would he be like if he were?

Even though his job and his regular workouts kept him in excellent physical condition, the six-kilometer uphill walk to the monastery took Duo well over an hour in the thin air. It was early afternoon when he strode, winded, through the red monastery gates. He was greeted by a set of wholly exotic sensations—the sound of wind chimes and prayer wheels and chanting, and the monastery's denizens themselves, shaven-headed and saffron-robed.

Duo set about searching for his lost partner. After a half-hour's hunt and just when he had almost given up hope, he finally spotted a familiar blue-eyed Japanese face near the monastery's perimeter, and the butterflies flapped even harder.

Heero outward appearance was completely different. His unruly hair had been shorn close to his scalp and he was robed, like the rest of monks. He was seated in the lotus position, performing his afternoon meditation and appeared to be a creature at peace with himself.

Duo's palms were sweating and his knees felt weak as he approached the young man he had waited two years and traveled half way around the world to see. When he was three meters away from Heero, the seated novice looked up. One could never sneak up on Heero.

"Duo!" Heero said, obviously nonplussed. "My God, Duo! What are you doing here? How did you find me!"

This was not the greeting that Duo had been dreaming of and the braided boy's strained face reflected his sheer nervousness.

"Hey Heero! Glad to see you too! It's been a long time!" For just a moment, Duo put on the old manic mask, but realized at once how out of place it was here. He paused, and started again.

"Heero, I came looking for you because I didn't know if you still among the living. I've been having these nightmares about your bleeding to death after you self-destructed. I _had_ to know that you were alive. I needed to see that you had survived after you disappeared," he said, feeling very much on edge.

Finally, Duo just couldn't hold it in anymore. "DAMN you, Heero! I was so worried about you! I thought you'd run off to kill yourself. Why'd ya have to just go and _vanish_!"

Heero blinked. Suddenly, he looked and felt confused, as if he was losing track of his center, hard-won through two years of monastic discipline.

"Duo, I'm sorry," he said. "I should have let you know that I was still alive. Back then, I was falling apart psychologically. Dr. J's conditioning was perfect for war but it was never designed to withstand the rigors of peace. I felt like a discarded toy and I was quickly going insane. It felt like I was being torn apart systematically, from the inside out."

Momentarily, Duo looked away, trying to control his roiling feelings. "Heero, I have to ask you something," he said. "Did that night mean _anything_? Anything at all?"

Heero found that he couldn't meet Duo's glance. He stared down at the ochre-colored soil and his voice was choked.

"Aa. That night..." Heero took a long breath. "Duo, that night was the most passionate thing I've ever experienced in my life. I've never forgotten it. I can _still_ remember every bit of it, as if it happened an hour ago instead of two years.

"You saved my life that night. But it was exactly the wrong thing for the long-term. I needed to pull myself together and that level of intensity would have destroyed me if we had continued along the same road. I didn't have the mental energy to face you the next morning. I was barely maintaining as it was. I knew I had to flee and find a different path or I would wind up dead. So I went to Wufei. But I guess you knew that, or you wouldn't be here.

"Wufei gave me a letter of introduction, but even with that, it was hard to get taken in here," Heero explained. "The monks wanted proof of my commitment before they would let me join them. Over time, they've grown more comfortable with me, but I'm still on a sort of probation. It seems that proving oneself here takes an eternity of self-denial."

Duo looked tired. The strain of the journey was catching up with him.

"So you've survived," he said.

"Yes."

"But are you happy?"

"Am I happy here?" Heero repeated, considering the question. "No, not really," he said. "Happiness isn't what this is about. What I've found is a kind of oblivion. The monks taught me to empty my mind...to abandon my ego...to fill myself with nothingness. It helps block the pain. I think that ultimately, I'll find some kind of detached contentment in this life. It's mindless work interspersed with pure contemplation. It's so completely different from my life before."

The saffron-robed novice appeared to be at peace once again, although Duo could not detect how much this apparent serenity had cost Heero. Duo dreaded what he had to do, but he knew he couldn't postpone the inevitable. With his voice trembling, he asked, "Are you gonna stay?"

There was a long pause.

Heero looked directly at Duo. His blue eyes were flat and opaque, while his newly shorn hair framed a familiar, practiced mask. It was the same one he had used to conceal his feelings throughout his former life.

Softly, Heero said, "Yes, Duo. This is where I belong now. It's peaceful here. Quiet. Almost like death really, yet I'm still alive. This place has helped me survive. I've decided that I'm not ready to die just yet. So, yes, I'm going to stay."

Something inside Duo cracked. He struggled not to reveal the shards through his tired face but he was swiftly losing the battle.

Panicking, fighting for control, he choked out a brittle farewell, not only to Heero but to his own hopes too. "So that's it then, I guess. Wufei told me this place doesn't take tourists and that definitely includes me," he said. Then, "Heero, I gotta go. Gotta run. Places to go, people to see. I hope someday...," he said and then stopped, unable to continue.

He was losing it. His mind was spinning like a child's top about to crash onto the floor. With the last of his self-control, he forced a smile and said softly, "Goodbye, Heero. Be well. Remember me." Violet eyes glistened as he turned swiftly away.

His thoughts swirled like the brisk mountain breeze. 'Idiot! What did you expect! That he was going to fall into your arms! Can't let him see me cry. Don't want him to remember me like that...'

Duo's feet felt like they were encased in blocks of ice. He stumbled glacially, a step at a time, towards the monastery gate, whose garish red pillars were oddly transformed by his tear-blurred vision into something like an Impressionist painting. He couldn't make out the details at all. It might have been the gateway to heaven or hell—there was no way he could possibly tell which realm laid beyond it.

The thin air took on an unexpected chill as a white, cumulous cloud, whipped by the frigid wind far above, obscured the autumnal sun. In the courtyard, the fallen leaves rustled, herded by the blustery weather into tiny tornados. Step by tortured step, Duo dragged himself towards the entrance, shivering in the sudden cold. The prayer wheels murmured, responding to the wind, and he heard a distant, deep chanting mixed with the whisper of the dead leaves.

And then, ever so quietly and almost imperceptibly amidst the peaceful sounds of the monastery, as though intended only for him, came a strangled sob. And his name, whispered like an incantation.

Duo froze and took a ragged, gasping breath. Then he spun around and ran, desperately, faster than the chilling wind, his feet suddenly light, back to the sound's source.

'Heero...'

Heero's mask had fractured. A single tear ran down his face as his sorrowful countenance tilted up to meet Duo's eyes.

Duo's face twisted with tension and his bitten lip oozed blood like a stigmata, crimson and miraculous. Solemnly and with the gravest respect, he held out his hand. "Walk with me?"

All he had learned at the monastery through two years of discipline and deprivation had failed to shield Heero from the darkness boiling up from within him. He rose and took Duo's hand. Together, they walked through the monastery gate and along a narrow trail that led to a rough, wooden bench.

Still hand in hand, the two young men sat together, facing an astonishing panorama. Early autumn snows had already dusted the peaks of the surrounding mountains with crystalline whiteness and the aspen trees were cloaked in a brilliant gold. The sun reappeared from behind its obscuring cloud and the boys felt an unexpected warmth as the intense, high-altitude daylight heated the fabric of their garments. Far below, the valley was still verdant and a miniature river meandered through its center, reflecting the sun in tiny starbursts. The gate seemed to have opened onto heaven, after all.

For some time the two remained sitting, hands grasped tightly together, absorbing the beauty that permeated this place, surrounding and overwhelming them. Finally, Heero spoke, his eyes guilty and his face troubled.

"I lied to you back there. The emptiness that I struggled so hard to find here ultimately turned out to be only that. Emptiness. I could never find enlightenment inside it. No matter how hard I tried to emulate the others, I just couldn't make it happen, Duo.

"I worked so hard to acclimate myself to the contemplative life, but I've always been addicted to action, and I just couldn't kick the obsession. I could never fully empty my mind, or forget the past, or lose the urge that constantly impelled me towards motion and activity. I came up here as a loaded weapon and I still am," he said.

Heero took a deep breath, and the thin air filled his lungs as he continued.

"And I could never forget you. Never. Duo, I've missed you so much. You took a long time teaching me how to be human, and, in a way, the whole purpose of this place is to empty me out and steal all of that back.

"Some nights I dreamed of you and the dream soaked my garments when I was supposed to be draining my mind of desire. But now that you're here, I still feel unclean. Two years of discipline and meditation haven't exorcised my guilt. I still feel that I don't belong on this earth anymore. That I'm not worthy of you."

Duo's face fell. For once, he had let Heero do the talking, and _this_ was what came out! "Idiot. IDIOT! How long are you going to go on punishing yourself for being a cog in a bloody, mad war! For doing your duty? Wars are mass insanity. They're like Frankenstein's monsters that take on lives of their own, and _no one_ can control them!" the braided pilot said angrily.

"You were just a kid! An adult who knew perfectly well what he was doing to you cruelly programmed you, like a machine. J was caught up in the insanity and never realized that he was mad, too, because truly crazy people never do. And now you think that you're somehow _dirty_ and unworthy? Of me? What do you think _I_ did back then? Do you think my hands are any cleaner than yours!"

"Hn," Heero replied, and just stared at him as confusion and distress radiated from his eyes.

Duo stopped for a moment, lost in thought. The tension in his face slowly subsided as he continued.

"I think one reason I was able to let it go was because of something very important I was taught as a kid, by Father Maxwell. On L2, in the streets, there was no absolution. Mistakes would cost you a meal, your family, or even your life. Mistakes would make you _bleed_.

"I was amazed when I found out that his religion is a religion of forgiveness. He taught me that everybody is born into sin. Everyone is imperfect, and no matter how hard you try, you can't gain forgiveness or entrance into heaven through good works alone. Forgiveness comes through divine grace. Salvation is achieved solely through belief in God.

"I hadn't gone to confession in almost four years, but after the Eve war I finally did it and it felt so good to get _everything_ off my chest and onto the table. The Father who took my confession seemed so wise. He understood what soldiers have to do in wartime because they've been doing their duty in war after war for longer than the Church has existed," he said intensely.

"Heero, just _let it go_. Believe that there is a God that loves you. There's a God who sees into your heart and understands the goodness in it. I _know_ there's goodness there in you. I saw it every day. If I didn't see it in you, do you think I would have loved you for as long as I did!"

Heero's jaw dropped and he squeezed Duo's hand even more tightly. "You _loved_ me, Duo?"

"No, Heero. I _love_ you. Then and right now. More than you can imagine. I missed you so much in the last two years that I journeyed halfway around the earth just to find you.

"I don't know how to take away your pain, except to be with you and to tell you how I dealt with my own. You've tried for two years to find peace in a religion of contemplation. It didn't work. Maybe you can find your peace in a religion of forgiveness instead."

Other than with Father Maxwell, Duo had never seriously discussed his faith with anyone. Indeed, for a long time he thought it had vanished altogether, swallowed by darkness and Shinigami. He reached for his cross and held it tightly in his hand, as if it could somehow guide him down this unfamiliar, shared path and help strengthen his belief. He thought his faith had been massacred along with the innocents at L2, so long ago, but somehow, quietly, it had risen inside him again without his being aware of its stealthy resurrection. Finally, when he needed it most, it had helped heal him.

"Do you know," he continued, "I wore that gold cross for all of the years that we fought, and for many years before that? I know that some people thought the whole priest outfit was blasphemy—just some shallow fashion statement or perhaps a perverse psychological quirk. Maybe it _was_ a little bit of both. But mostly it was for real. How could it not have been, when my time at Maxwell church was the only time in my life that I had known pure _goodness_?"

Heero's face was still tense. "This God of yours, Duo. Why did he allow all of those innocent people to suffer and die in the war? Why does he allow good people to be eaten alive by horrible diseases? Why is there so much anguish everywhere I look? It seems like your God has forgotten the very people he created."

Duo sighed. He almost felt that he was being quizzed on his catechism again and he wasn't at all confident that he had the right answers. It had been a long time since he was eight years old, after all, and meanwhile the world had become much more complicated. "I'm no expert in theology, Heero," he said. "I leave that to the monsignors. I just know what I feel. God is a mystery to me. Can you explain all that beauty before us right now? These tremendous mountains? Why the sunlight feels so warm and good on your shoulders? The life all around us? Do you understand how your own body works, let alone your mind? Can you contemplate infinity and not recoil from it in horror? They're all mysteries, Heero, and I don't understand a single one of them."

Heero looked puzzled. "Duo, I can't explain all of those things, yet I believe that science may explain some of them, sooner or later. But I see what you mean about infinity. I don't think my mind could ever truly grasp it and I know that it drove at least two great mathematicians mad when they tried. So I think I understand what you're saying when you talk about unfathomable mysteries."

Duo put his free hand on Heero's shoulder and turned to face him. "To me, God is terrifying and unknowable. The most foolish thing anyone could do is to think of God as human. But I believe that he gave us the gift of free will to make moral choices, and the gift of grace that grants us forgiveness and eternal life if only we choose to accept it. I learned that from the finest man I've ever known and I have to believe it," Duo said.

"Father Maxwell taught me that Christ was the Lamb of God, Heero. He sacrificed his life on the cross so that all of us could live eternally. As for us pilots, we were lions and lambs both—Wing was your teeth and claws, and when it roared overhead, everyone feared you. But we were also lambs—blood sacrifices laid upon warmongers' altars."

Duo looked straight into Heero's eyes. "Science will never explain beauty. It will never explain the beauty I see in you—"

Heero looked back for a moment and then murmured, "You think I'm beautiful? That's so strange. I feel like an ugly, twisted weapon that's been used long after it should have been scrapped."

Duo's eyes glistened. "You're wrong, Heero. You're _so_ wrong. You mustn't hate yourself like that. I believe that God loves you. I know _I_ do."

Heero was wavering now. "Duo, if I went to confession and told that wise Father that I loved _you_, would he throw me out of his church because he thought I was a freak and a pervert? When you push this church of yours beyond its limits, how far does its so-called unconditional love _really_ go?"

Duo smiled. "Heero, that's one thing I told him when I went to confession. That I loved you. And that you were a boy. He told me that if my love for you was true in my heart and it wasn't just some lustful obsession, then it was OK. Knowing what his superiors taught, I think he was following his instincts and ignoring his theology. I'm not sure how many priests would have given me the same answer, but I knew, deep in my gut, that his answer was right," he said.

"Heero, the Church can be very political. It's an ancient institution that was built by men, and men still control it. They're not angels, and most of them understand that all too well. When you get right down to it, they're as sinful as the rest of us and they know they must surely rely on God's grace for their salvation. That's why you have to call upon your own inner faith for answers. You can only hope that God blesses you with a vision of the truth."

For a long time Heero said nothing. He just looked at Duo with a sense of wonder on his face, as if Duo were the vision with which he had suddenly been blessed. As if Duo were the truth he was seeking.

Duo removed the fine gold chain that had held the cross around his neck for so long. Reaching out to Heero, he threaded the chain over Heero's head until the cross lay on his chest.

"Heero, I've worn this cross ever since I was eight years old. It holds the best memories of my childhood. But now you need it more than I do. I want you to try it on and see if it fits. It'll take you a while to find out if it does. And it might not, ever. So, for the moment, consider it a loan. If it helps you find serenity, then it's yours forever."

Heero's face was open and his expression finally hinted at hope. His tears had dried into little salt traces that were barely visible on his cheeks.

"Thank you, Duo" he said, "For the cross. For coming all this way to find me. For loving me after all this time. For caring, when you could have forgotten."

"Heero, forgetting you was inconceivable," Duo said. His eyes connected to Heero's as he leaned over and touched his lips lightly with his own.

Silently, he prayed,_ 'Almighty God, may you heal Heero's heart. Let your countenance shine upon him, and grant him peace. Amen.'_

Moments later, the two were locked in a mutual embrace, with eyes closed and warmth flowing between them. The sunlight enveloped them and they became aware of the infinitesimal sounds all around—the rustle of tiny animals in the woodlands, birdsong, the whisper of leaves in the tender afternoon breeze, and their own quiet breathing. It seemed as though they were permeated by grace.

After an indeterminate eternity had passed in this sanctified way, Heero broke the silence.

"Duo, I want to go home," he said.

Duo's heart pounded, as hope and dread boiled within him.

"Home? Heero, where's that? Where will you go?" he asked.

Heero placed his hands on the other boy's shoulders and moved close, forehead-to-forehead. Quietly, he replied, "I think it's down there. In the valley or somewhere beyond. It's anywhere you are, Duo. _Anywhere_."

As they prepared for the long journey home, Duo thought, '_Sometimes the path to enlightenment leads downward, away from an ever more distant evil, through the valley where the shadows of the mountains are no longer the shadows of death, and where the sun blazes in a pure blue sky.'_


	2. Chapter 2: Pavlov's Dog

Category: drama, crime, romance  
Warnings: serious violence, BL lime, language, fluff  
Pairings: 2x1

Notes: '...' = thoughts

I don't own the characters. This story is not for profit.

**Chapter 2**

**~Pavlov's Dog, Swimming In A Sea Of Stars~**

The journey from Nepal ended half a world away from takeoff. The two travel-worn ex-pilots arrived grubby and, to other disembarking passengers, inexplicably happy. Duo's countenance glowed under the grime and even Heero was smiling. Except for one sympathetic flight attendant, no one knew that the "mile-high club" now included two beauties who had come together in a multitude of athletic ways in various cramped spaces to end two years of self-denial. Given the volume of fluids exchanged, their in-flight entertainment should have drained them completely, yet a numinous energy crackled between them. They had become like two magnets whose north and south poles were unbreakably joined.

The two spent a week decompressing in Duo's one-bedroom apartment without worrying about Heero's unemployment. They spent an extravagant amount of that time in the bedroom, continuing to make up for two years of lost opportunities.

To Heero, living with Duo just seemed _right_. The weight set in the living room and the paperback mysteries on the bookshelf made the place perfect. Nevertheless, Duo was due back at MacTavish Salvage and the two had crucial decisions to make.

"Hmmm," mused Duo. "I don't see any help-wanted ads looking for 'Buddhist monk' experience. Seems like enlightenment's not a marketable commodity right now, 'specially if you have to fake it. But I know of an outfit that's wants to hire a few good ex-military people."

"The Preventers?" replied Heero. "I am sure I remember enough of my old skills to be useful. Of course in the military, enlightenment was considered dangerous because it could delay blind obedience to orders. The generals had a point—battle is unhealthy for philosophers. Hesitation gets soldiers killed."

"Yeah," sighed Duo, "seems like we always want our leaders to be noble philosopher-kings and then they turn out to be schmucks. It's like 'nobility' is an oxymoron. Some of 'em are in it for power. Some are in it for glory. Some are greedy fucks who just wanna get rich. Some are megalomaniacs. Some are naïve idiots who believe in total pacifism. They have one thing in common: They get lots of people killed who don't deserve it. Or at least _most_ of them don't. _That's_ why the nobility are all schmucks. It pisses me off just to think about it."

"Do you think that the Preventers are any better?" asked Heero.

"Hope springs fucking eternal, doesn't it? We're _supposed _to have rule of law now," replied Duo. "Or so we've been told. No political system's 100% squeaky-clean, But chances are, if the Preventers' leadership gets too corrupt, we can disappear and do what we need to do. Don't forget, hiding's my specialty. So I'm willing to give them a chance as long as we keep our eyes open."

"Of course, you would have to apply too," said Heero. "Otherwise, we would be separated, and that is the worst idea I have had in one year, eleven months, and twenty-four days..."

Duo pictured an abacus in Heero's brain, clicking at supersonic speed. "OK, Heero," he acquiesced. "I'll give it a shot if you're willing too. I think I can get Wufei to pull some strings. He and I had a teeny little misunderstanding shortly after you left, but we're all better now, thank you.

"I'm just wondering if it's really a good idea for you to do this, though," continued Duo. "You've already changed amazingly and I love that. Are you _really _sure you wanna return to military life? What if it pushes some buttons inside your head that shouldn't be pushed just yet?"

"The Preventers are more like peacekeepers than military, are they not?" asked Heero. "I think I will be alright if I am not required to strap myself into a mobile suit and start killing again." A grimace flitted across his face and Duo felt a little chill.

"Heero, the mobile suits are just scrap and junk now," said Duo, "but we need to know what we're getting into. The time will probably come when we'll have to start shooting even if we use low-tech arms to do it. There are still bad guys out there. That will never change."

Heero paused and looked into the distance. It seemed to Duo as if Heero was wrestling with a darkness that lurked inside his core, plotting to destroy what they had just begun together. Finally, Heero sighed fatalistically. "I am willing to deal with that when it happens," he replied. "I think we should apply."

Wufei's intervention, plus Une and Noin's combat-honed appreciation of the ex-pilots' skills, got them a place in the Preventers' officer training program. The academy was located at the main Preventers headquarters in Vienna and required the two young men to give up Duo's cozy apartment in the U.S. in favor of a shared flat on base in Austria, close to the Sanc kingdom.

The Preventers' command hierarchy knew of Heero's and Duo's relationship. Like other enlightened military organizations, it did not discriminate against same-sex couples. In fact, some generals believed that the fiercest warriors were lovers fighting side-by-side—the Spartan ideal. Accordingly, Heero and Duo were assigned to work together. Fall had turned into a chilly Central European winter when they faced Noin, ready to take on their first real assignment after three months of training.

Special Director Noin didn't much care for her desk job but tolerated it as unavoidable. The massive antique mahogany desk that separated her from the ex-pilots lent an air of gravitas to the briefing.

"Gentlemen," she said, "we have received word that Lucinda Peacecraft-Smyth has disappeared. She is a six-year-old child who doesn't yet attend school, so she is almost always at the Peacecraft-Smyth country estate in Maiernigg. Ordinarily, this sort of thing would be entirely within the jurisdiction of the local Sanc kingdom authorities but Lucinda is Relena Peacecraft's second cousin. We therefore must consider the possibility that the disappearance is politically motivated. Perhaps someone with a grudge against Relena Peacecraft has chosen this means to attack her indirectly. Your mission is to proceed immediately to the Peacecraft-Smyth estate as political observers. You will determine if there is a political dimension to this disappearance and you will report to me immediately if there is. Meanwhile, offer the local authorities any assistance you can."

"M'am," said Heero, "our training is military. We have no special competence in criminology or detective work. I want the definition of our mission to be clear and precise."

"I don't expect you to solve this case," replied Noin. "Leave that to the local detectives as much as possible. You are to assist them while trying to determine if any terrorist, military or political group is involved. If so, the Preventers will have to intervene. Is that understood?"

"Yes M'am," replied Heero.

"I'll contact the local authorities and tell them to expect you. Good luck, gentlemen."

The Peacecraft-Smyth estate consisted of a four hundred year old mansion of stone and mortar, standing on a large plot of mostly wooded land. The manor itself was surrounded by a half-hectare of lawn, whose smoothly groomed expanse was interrupted by ornate flowerbeds and phantasmagorically trimmed hedges. The effect was that of old money indulging its eccentricities with utter self-confidence.

Winter had done its work on the landscaping. The lawn was a brownish green, awaiting the arrival of a still-distant spring, and the flowerbeds were covered with protective tarp. There were occasional piles of sooty, half-melted snow sitting on the frozen ground. Beyond the lawn's perimeter, the leafless trees stood skeletally in the winter afternoon's half-light, their trunks and branches merging into a gloomy tangle in the depths of the woodland.

Heero and Duo arrived shortly after the local authorities, who had been busy interviewing the family and servants. The two young men were greeted at the door by a gray-haired cop in his mid 50s.

"Aah...you must be Maxwell and Yuy. Please come in," said the officer, offering his hand in turn to each of the Preventers. "I'm Detective-Inspector Johann Himmelfarb.

Heero didn't waste any time. "Detective-Inspector," he said, acknowledging the introduction with a brief nod. His eyes flicked around the room, briskly absorbing the understated opulence of the interior décor. "Can you tell me what you've learned so far?"

"What is it you want to know?" countered Himmelfarb. "The Preventers liaison told me you were coming to investigate possible political aspects of the case. I'm not altogether certain what that means or why the Preventers need to be involved in a local matter."

Duo fell into the unaccustomed role of peacemaker. "Not to worry—we're not trying to step on anyone's toes here. We're not glory-hounds," he said. "As you surely know, Lucinda Peacecraft-Smyth is a second cousin of Relena Peacecraft. Relena has plenty of political enemies and Special Director Noin thought this disappearance might have political overtones. Maybe someone is trying to get to Relena by attacking her extended family. We don't know yet, but we want to be involved in case Director Noin is right. We're happy to offer you any assistance we can."

'Perhaps these boys are not as politically naive as they look,' thought Himmelfarb. 'I was afraid that they might have Gundam-sized egos but so far I see no evidence of this. I probably shouldn't give them a hard time unless they provoke me.'

Duo was glad that Himmelfarb seemed mollified. "Alright, fair enough—this is what we know so far," said Himmelfarb. "Mr. Peacecraft-Smyth is Chairman of Smyth Industries, and he left for his office routinely this morning at 08:30."

'Aah...' thought Heero, '...this must be the same Smyth Industries that was alleged to be a major munitions maker during the war. Supposedly, they would sell to anyone with hard currency. OZ, White Fang, the Alliance...it didn't really matter to them as long as they were paid in hard currency.'

"When I look around here, I am impressed," observed Heero to Himmelfarb. "It seems that war was profitable."

"Well, be that as it may," replied Himmelfarb, "they seem to have adapted to peace with no problem at all. They still have their hands in a lot of businesses—sophisticated organic chemicals, pharmaceuticals, even vehicles."

Himmelfarb allowed himself a smile. "In fact," he said, "I wouldn't mind getting my hands on one of those little Aston-Smyth JA800s. Those babies are _fast_!"

"Considering what we get paid as Preventers, a bright red JA800 is just a dream to me," said Duo. "But yeah, I hear ya!"

Himmelfarb crisply steered the briefing back to business. "Mrs. Peacecraft-Smyth had a social engagement in mid-morning—her bridge club," he said. "Evidently Mrs. Peacecraft-Smyth was an expert bridge player. So at 10:00 Lucinda was left alone with the housekeeper, a Mrs. Kleindienst.

"According to Mrs. Kleindienst, she checked on Lucinda in her bedroom at 10:30, and everything was fine. She was playing with her toy stuffed animals and her dollhouse. At noon, the housekeeper called Lucinda for lunch, and there was no answer. She went upstairs to Lucinda's room, and the girl was missing. She searched the house and the immediate grounds and there was no sign of her. She called Mr. Peacecraft-Smythe at the office, and he immediately called us.

"We thoroughly searched the house and grounds but we found no sign of the girl and no evidence of what might have happened to her. Since it was a suspected kidnapping, word immediately went out to regional law enforcement. I imagine that's when the Preventers picked it up."

"Has there been any word from a kidnapper? Any ransom demand?" asked Heero.

"Not yet," said Himmelfarb. "But it's only been three hours since she's been missing. She may have just wandered off, although that's very unlikely—that would be completely inconsistent with her personality and usual behavior."

"What's your next step?" asked Duo.

"We're bringing in some dogs to help do a wider search," replied Himmelfarb. "They should be here within half an hour. There's thirty hectares of woods out there just within the estate, and most of it is tangled up with underbrush. We could spend days in there and walk within ten feet of her and never see a thing. But we have some very well-trained tracking dogs, and, with any luck, they can pick up her scent and give us some idea where she went."

Duo had some time to think about the situation and to watch Heero. He was getting some strange vibes from the taciturn pilot. Duo took Heero aside.

"You look a little off-balance," said Duo quietly. After all, it was Heero's first encounter as a Preventer with a potentially tragic case involving civilians. Given Heero's recent history, Duo was concerned about the mental well being of his partner.

"I will be alright," said Heero, not entirely convincingly. "Somehow, this whole situation just feels odd. But it shouldn't bother me. I just need to focus."

"Why don't you read the case file while you're waiting?" suggested Himmelfarb to the two Preventers. "We haven't been able to assemble a whole lot in three hours, but you're welcome to examine what we have."

"Thank you, Detective-Inspector," replied Heero. "Duo and I will study the files until the dogs arrive."

Twenty minutes later, three big dogs—two 40-kilo Rottweilers and a German shepherd—arrived with Anton Kohl, who was not only the dogs' trainer but also the officer in charge of the K-9 corps. Upon being introduced to the beautiful female German shepherd by Kohl, Duo immediately took to the noble animal. "Awww, _good_ girl," crooned Duo, stroking the dog's back and scratching behind her ears. The feeling was evidently mutual, because the dog looked up at Duo and started licking his hand.

He looked up her trainer. "What's her name?" he asked.

"Feuhrer," replied Anton. "She leads; we follow."

"Feuhrer? Die Feuhrer?" asked Duo, only half-smiling. "I was unaware that your organization has such a polished sense of irony. I thought Germans are supposed to have no sense of humor."

"Well…centuries ago, a certain narcissistic, sociopathic megalomaniac named Adolph Hilter called himself 'Der Fuehrer'. He cast some sort of malignant spell over the German-speaking world and brought it to ruin within a decade," said Anton. "Real Goetterdaemmerung stuff. Counting soldiers and civilians, 50 million people died and many of those were murdered in cold blood." Anton winced. "Of course, no one has tried to do _that_ lately, now have they?"

Duo frowned. "Amazing how human nature never seems to change at all, isn't it?" he said. "Every time we think that civilization has progressed, some asshole pops up and drags it back down."

Anton looked down. "All too true," he replied. "No matter how powerful, the old lessons fade from memory, although _that_ history is still a required part of our school curriculum. Anyway, we thought that if Hilter were still around, he'd be really _pissed_ if we gave his title to a dog, and a bitch at that. We pictured him spinning in his grave fast enough to power half of Vienna," he said, stroking the dog's shiny coat. "If you really know the history, it's hard to joke about it, but sometimes you have to remind people that the devil is eternally opportunistic…"

Concerned about the urgency of the investigation, Himmelfarb interrupted the bonding session. "OK, enough history," he said. "People, let's get to work searching the woods before daylight fails. I'll go with Marshall and take the 120-degree arc centered north. Kohl, you go with Berger and take the southeast arc. Maxwell, since Fuehrer seems to like you so much, why don't you and Yuy take her and work the southwest arc?"

Himmelfarb reached behind him and held up a little toy animal. "Lucinda loved stuffed toy animals and she has a big collection up in her bedroom," he said. "According to Mrs. Kleindienst, this little toy rabbit was one of her favorites, so let your dog get Lucinda's scent off it before you start out."

"Fuehrer is well trained," said Kohl. "She'll let you know if she's following a scent. Just let her take the lead."

"Got it," said Duo.

After familiarizing Fuehrer with the missing girl's scent, Heero and Duo set off with the leashed dog towards the edge of the woods southwest of the house. Fuehrer walked quickly, nose to the ground, searching for a trail. After traversing about 70 degrees of the arc, she barked and pulled at her leash, urging the two Preventers into the woods.

"Heero!" exclaimed Duo. "I think she's found something. Let's go!"

Fuehrer pulled hard on the leash, leading the two young men through the thick, denuded underbrush. Dead leaves and sticks crunched underfoot as Duo and Heero pushed their way through the dense growth. The sun was low on the horizon and the light was already dim under the spiderweb-like maze of leafless branches that formed a canopy above their heads. They were constantly dodging obstacles, following Fuehrer over rocks, fallen branches, and patches of unmelted snow left over from a month-old storm.

Fuehrer kept panting and pulled hard on the leash. Clearly, she sensed something as she dragged the two Preventers into the dimming light.

The search party heard the brook before they saw it. Although its banks were covered with ice that extended partway into the water, the center was open and frigid water ran swiftly through it, bubbling and swirling against the rocks. Fuehrer sniffed anxiously back and forth, but it seemed that the trail ended there.

"We're going to have to cross this," said Heero. "I see a fallen tree bridging it about thirty meters upstream. I hope your balance is good."

"Heero, give me a little credit, will ya," replied Duo. "Somehow I managed to pilot Deathscythe in zero-gee. I'm not gonna worry about slipping off a damn log!"

True to his word, Duo led the way, coaxing a reluctant Fuehrer to cross behind him. Heero followed up to the rear. "Seek, girl!" Duo told Fuehrer, and the well-trained German shepherd aimed her nose toward the ground and started padding down the brook's bank, back toward where the trail first disappeared. About 25 meters downstream, her ears pricked up, she barked, and then pulled on the leash again. "She got it!" exclaimed Duo.

The dog moved rapidly through the woods for another 40 meters. Then, suddenly, she stopped short.

"Merciful Jesus Christ in heaven!" gasped Duo in horror.

Heero felt his emotions spiraling out of control. He had seen dozens, if not hundreds, of similar scenes during the war. But those were soldiers, and that was before his conditioning started to break down. He watched in icy detachment as the contents of his stomach spewed onto the frozen ground in spasm after spasm.

In the dim light of the woods, the boys saw something that looked like a broken rag doll. What was lying there seemed to bear little relationship to the innocent little girl who had loved to play with dolls and toy animals. Her water-soaked frock was tattered and frayed. It was pulled away from her lower body, which was bruised and bleeding from some kind of obscene, unspeakable violation. Two meters from Lucinda's pathetic remains, a filthy toy dog was resting on the ground. Part of its white stuffing protruded from a violent tear in its belly and one little button-eye was missing.

Duo's shock was interrupted by a howl of anguish from his lover. It seemed to have erupted from the deepest, most animalistic part of him, beyond the borders of rationality. Duo could never remember having been so frightened by a sound or so frightened for the man he cared about more than anything else in his life. Startled, Fuehrer whimpered and pulled against her leash. She had never heard this sound from a human before, either.

"Heero!" shouted Duo. Dragging Fuehrer behind him, he ran to his shaken partner and put his leash-free arm around Heero's trembling shoulders.

Trying to bring himself back under control, Heero began the calming, deep-breathing exercises he had learned at the monastery. "Oh my god, Duo!" he panted, as much to himself as to his partner, and forced himself to take deep, slow breaths.

"Heero—you've got to pull yourself together!" pleaded Duo. "We need to deal with this situation as officers. You can't fall apart now!"

Heero's face was still pale but he seemed calmer. "I'm sorry, Duo," he managed to say. "This...this _scene_ has caused me great pain. There are personal reasons. But you're right, of course. We have a duty to perform. Call Himmelfarb."

'Oh crap,' thought Duo, 'this isn't good. I'd hoped Heero's mood swings were getting better, but that one was nasty and we've got a job to do.'

Duo dialed Himmelfarb's number on his cellphone. "Himmelfarb! This is Duo. Very bad news. We've found her, and she's dead. Looks like a sexual assault. _Very_ ugly. You're going to need a forensic team in here. We're not trained in that sort of thing, so all we can do is to stay away from the body and not disturb the scene."

Duo held the phone away from his head for a moment. "Heero! What are the coordinates here?" he asked.

Heero pulled out the mobile GPS receiver from his kit and read off the latitude and longitude to Duo, who repeated the numbers to Himmelfarb. "OK, Himmelfarb, we'll stay right here until your team arrives," Duo said. "Oh, by the way, you can tell forensics to ignore the recycled lunch on the ground. That was me. Civilian casualties look bad enough from the cockpit of a mobile suit, but it's amazing how much worse they look when you're up close. 45 minutes? All right—see you then."

"Forensics will be here in less than an hour, Heero," Duo informed his partner. "Meanwhile, there's really nothing more we can do but wait. We need to keep the scene as unspoiled as possible."

"Duo," said Heero angrily, "why did you tell them that _you_ lost your lunch? I thought you never lied. You don't have to protect me. I mean, why is that so important?"

"Well, I never lie if it would hurt someone else or give me an unfair advantage," explained Duo. "But this was just a little white lie, and I don't feel bad about it at all.

"In fact, I think it's important I said it because Noin and Une are watching you. There are rumors running around headquarters that you cracked up after the war, and I don't want to give them _any_ ammunition to use against you if they want to blow you out of this job. As far as our commanders go, you _still_ have to come across as the perfect soldier. I'm just the crazy idiot anyway, so I can get away with a little regurgitation in the normal course of business. But with you, they'd interpret it as a sign that something wasn't right, just because you never did stuff like that back in the war. They wouldn't understand that it's the downside of struggling to grow, or that I like you a thousand times better now than the way you were then."

"You know, Duo, maybe I was better off then," sighed Heero. "I may have been an incomplete human being, but at least I had my self-respect and a sense of purpose."

"These things that happen to you—they're just growing pains," replied Duo. "Every time you show some human weakness and true emotion, a little bit more of that old conditioning cracks and breaks away. That's a _good_ thing, Heero. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Well, I _am_ embarrassed, Duo," said Heero petulantly. "I _hate_ not being in control."

"Just give it time," said Duo. "What you're doing is really difficult. Every day you grow, and..." Duo squeezed Heero's shoulders. "Every day I love you more."

"I don't know why you even tolerate my weaknesses," replied Heero.

"C'mon Heero, don't even go there. Just cut the crap!" replied Duo testily. "You know that somehow, we're bound together. I put up with you because...well, there doesn't have to _be_ any 'because'. There's just us."

"Hn," observed Heero.

'When you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle 'em with bullshit,' thought Duo in wild frustration. 'There's no way I could really put into words how I feel about him. I'll just have to keep showing him love and hope that, somehow, he understands...'

The forensic team had arrived as promised and had gone about its business. There are few things sadder than a child-sized body bag, particularly when it is fulfilling its intended purpose. Nevertheless, an autopsy was unavoidable, so Lucinda left the place of her death ignominiously, surrounded by darkness.

Heero and Duo returned to Preventer headquarters to make their preliminary report and to await the results of the autopsy. Around 20:00 Duo's phone rang; it was Himmelfarb.

"Well, Duo, we have some good news—as if any news can be considered good in this situation," reported Himmelfarb. "The monster who did this thing left a calling card. We have a semen sample, and that means we could do DNA matching."

Starting in AC110, every child born under ordinary circumstances was required to supply a DNA sample for national databases. Privacy advocates had screamed at first, but after the databases had yielded the solution of some particularly brutal crimes, DNA matching became as accepted and ubiquitous as fingerprinting had been two centuries earlier. Some ninety years after the databases had first been established, the results were more reliable and quicker than fingerprint matching had ever been.

"We already have a match," continued Himmelfarb. "One Joseph Berger. He lives at 29 Grabingerstrasse, flat 3B, in Wuermla. I think it would be a good idea if you and Heero accompanied us as political liaisons. We still don't know what Berger's motivation might have been. Meet us at the corner of Grabingerstrasse and Kirchenstrasse at 21:00. It's about two blocks from Berger's flat. We'll have a search warrant and we'll go together on foot from there. Be discreet—we don't want him to run."

An hour later, Himmelfarb's crew, Heero, and Duo stealthily made their way up the stairs to flat 3B. The lights were off but Himmelfarb pounded on the door anyway. "Joseph Berger! Open up! Police!" he shouted.

There was no response. "I think I can help," said Duo. "You have a search warrant, right? No need to break down the door; lock picking is one of my specialties."

Looking somewhat embarrassed, Duo pulled out a series of small picks from his braid. "I keep them there for sentimental reasons," he explained to the bemused officers.

In a few moments, Duo had the door open and the search party entered Berger's gloomy flat. "Lock the door behind you and don't turn on the lights. Work with your flashlights only," commanded Himmelfarb. "If our suspect comes home unexpectedly, we want everything to seem normal from the outside. We don't want to scare him off."

The officers started a through search of the untidy flat. There were the usual artifacts of a bachelor's existence, but nothing incriminating. There was, however, a locked closet.

"Duo, would you do the honors?" asked Himmelfarb.

Duo picked the flimsy lock in record time, and opened the door. "Christ!" he exclaimed as he got his first look at the walk-in closet's contents.

The door might as well have been the portal between a dimension of utterly ordinary banality and the ninth circle of Hell. Every square centimeter of the wall was covered with kiddy-porn—pathetic Lolitas servicing menacing, degenerate adult men. A data terminal and attached printer were installed in the cramped space; Berger evidently did his "research" through the global network.

"Well," said Himmelfarb dryly, "I think we've found our man."

"I thought I heard something," murmured Heero. They all immediately shut up. In the abrupt silence, they could all hear the metallic scratching of a key fumbling to engage a lock.

"Take him as soon as he enters the flat," whispered Himmelfarb. Marshall and Kohl drew their weapons and moved quickly and quietly into position.

The door opened and a man entered the dark flat, still holding his key in his right hand. He pocketed the key and switched on the overhead light.

"Joseph Berger, you are under arrest for the murder of Lucinda Peacecraft-Smyth," growled Himmelfarb. Berger froze in confusion and dropped the small bag of groceries he had been carrying under his left arm. The officers heard the tinkle of shattering glass and the scrunch of breaking eggs. "What...how...!" stuttered Berger.

With a snarl of rage, Heero launched himself at Lucinda's murderer. He would have done severe damage to Berger if it weren't for Duo's throwing himself between the two to prevent a debacle. Duo went down hard as Heero collided with him, and Heero's face turned white with shock when he realized what he'd done to his slender partner. In the resulting confusion, Berger turned to flee the flat, but was tackled and handcuffed by Marshall and Kohl.

"_Jesus_, Heero! That hurt!" moaned Duo as he lay sprawled on the floor. "What's gotten into you, anyway!"

"Duo—are you alright!" mumbled Heero, furious at himself for his loss of control and his loss of face in front of his colleagues.

Duo inspected himself cautiously. "Well, nothing's broken, but I'm going to have some _major_ bruises tomorrow," he said. He got on his feet gingerly. "Ow! Shit! You don't know your own strength, Heero."

The ringing of Himmelfarb's cellphone interrupted Duo, but he couldn't make out Himmelfarb's lengthy, murmured conversation. He finally broke the connection, looking grimly satisfied.

"Well, everything's pretty much fallen into place," he told the assembled officers, making sure that Berger heard every word. "Our database mining revealed that Berger was formerly married to Mrs. Kleindienst's sister. They divorced two years ago.

"We sent a detective to confront Mrs. Kleindienst back at the Peacecraft-Smyth estate. It wasn't hard to get her to spill once she found out that Lucinda was dead. Evidently, Berger came to her to propose a kidnapping plot. All she had to do was to leave the front door unlocked and to hear nothing when he entered the house and grabbed the child. In return he promised her a share of the ransom."

Himmelfarb turned and looked contemptuously at Berger.

"Of course, he was just using her to get to the child," he continued. "He never intended to carry out his side of the bargain, or to go through with a ransom plot at all. The only thing on his mind was molesting her."

Berger was sweating heavily. "No! It wasn't that way at all. I swear!" he blathered. Himmelfarb glared at him.

"You moron!" he snared. "You're nailed. We have semen samples. We have a DNA match. You're never going to see the outside of a prison again. And if I had the choice, you'd be dangling on the end of a rope. But we're civilized now. No more death penalty—too inhumane.

"You know, there's only one thing that gives me comfort. I think your time in prison is going to be very short. In cases like yours, some inmate will decide to deliver a little rough justice. It'll happen soon. It's almost a matter of honor with those guys," he finished, looking grimly satisfied. Berger, on the other hand, looked like someone has just kicked him in the gut.

Himmelfarb turned back to address Heero and Duo. "It wasn't a bad plan. It just wasn't good enough. He assumed he could count on Mrs. Kleindienst's silence because she was involved up to her eyeballs. But he didn't consider two things: first, that the child wouldn't survive the rape, and second, that Mrs. Kleindienst had a conscience and some degree of love for Lucinda."

He turned around to face to Berger, who was cringing away from him. "After all," said Himmelfarb, revulsion painted on his face, "you told her that Lucinda wouldn't get hurt."

Addressing Marshall and Kohl, he ordered, "Take this piece of shit out of here."

The two officers marched Berger out the door to his fate. Meanwhile, Duo took Himmelfarb aside. "Detective-Inspector, a word if you will," said Duo. "You know who Heero is, of course."

"Yeah," replied Himmelfarb. "He's the kid who saved our collective asses—_twice_. You don't see genuine war heroes too often but Heero certainly qualifies."

"What are you doing, Duo?" interrupted Heero. The drift of the conversation was making him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Just trying to reach an understanding with a fan of yours," replied Duo. He turned back to Himmelfarb.

"Heero went through a lot of shit in the war, and every once in a while it still gets to him. Like tonight, when he went off on Berger and I got in his way. Look, Heero's a good man, and I'd appreciate it if you left that little incident off your report."

"Duo!" said Heero, tightly.

"No problem," replied Himmelfarb. "For a while I was in the military with the Treize Faction, so I've seen how mobile suit combat can affect good people. I don't think anyone with a conscience can go through that experience that without taking a few nightmares with him."

Heero just stared at the floor, mortified.

"I think you gentlemen can go home now," said Himmelfarb. "There's no evidence that there's any political aspect to this case at all. It was just one freak and one greedy, naïve woman. And one poor, dead little girl."

"Thanks, Detective-Inspector," said Duo.

"Thank you for your understanding," added Heero tensely. Only Duo could sense how humiliating it was for Heero to have to thank a fellow officer for overlooking his screw-up. The two young men left the depressing flat in a somber mood.

The trip back home seemed to drag on forever. "That was _way_ too easy," complained Heero morosely. "You love those mystery novels where it takes a whole book to work out who done it and human cleverness always gets the mystery solved by the end. But it was a computer that nailed that freak Berger. It is as if humans aren't even necessary anymore."

"We were just doing our jobs, Heero," replied Duo. "The Preventers needed a political liaison with a certain amount of smarts; tag—we were it. You and I are soldiers and pilots. We're not professional detectives. That was Himmelfarb's crew's job, and they did it well. The computer was just a tool for them."

"As for Berger," continued Duo, "he got careless and slipped up. I'm surprised he wasn't caught doing some other bit of nastiness before now. Yeah, I like to read detective stories, and I read a lot of them in the two years when you were gone. But real-world crime is usually much more boring. Either the culprit is an amateur and finally makes a mistake like Berger, or he's a pro and doesn't get caught at all. There's a reason why organized crime has stayed in business for millennia—usually the cops just don't have the resources to make a case against a group that's professional and clever. We should be glad that this one got wrapped up as easily as it did. Even though Himmelfarb would have never said it out loud, it's probably only because Berger chose to go against a powerful family. Otherwise, he might have gotten away with killing nobodies for years without the cops' ever connecting the dots."

"The whole thing was just humiliating," grumbled Heero. "Other than _your_ breaking and entering skills, our only contribution was finding that poor little girl. And that was just the luck of the draw. We might just as well have found ourselves assigned to one of the other quadrants. Then we wouldn't have contributed anything at all. We would've been nothing more than Relena's little functionaries, sitting there looking like fools."

He turned away from Duo in embarrassment. "I bet those cops are laughing about us right now, cracking up about the big bad Preventer who lost his lunch the first time he saw a dead body on the ground."

"Heero—for God's sake!" said Duo, getting more and more exasperated with his depressed partner. "Stop beating up on yourself! Given our assignment, we did the best job we could. Noin didn't ask us to solve the case. She just wanted to know if it had something to do with the Peacecraft family. We can report—_accurately_ report—that the crime had no political motive. So just calm down, guy!"

"Hnn," was Heero's only reply, and the rest of the long ride home was spent in silence. Duo was becoming progressively more concerned about his partner's state of mind, knowing that his crumbling wartime conditioning could still cause him major psychological l problems.

By the time they got home, Heero was pale and sweating. "Duo, I don't feel very well at all," he choked out as he paced restlessly back and forth in their little bedroom. His hands were balled tightly into fists so tight that his fingernails cut little bloody arcs in his palms.

"Heero," said Duo anxiously, "does this have something to do with your conditioning? Is it breaking again?"

"I don't know I don't know I don't know!" gasped Heero. Rivulets of sweat were pouring off his face and he started to tremble violently.

Duo was frantic with anxiety. "Heero! What do you need! How can I help!"

But something had swept Heero beyond the point where he could reply rationally. Without warning, he stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and threw himself on the bed. Lying tense and naked, he stared at his standing lover with anguished eyes. His pupils were dilated and his skin was pale.

He sucked air in through his teeth with a little hiss. "UHHH!" he gasped, as a tidal wave of remorse swept through him. His face was icy. Frozen with guilt. Anguished. Something diabolical and reptilian had commandeered his consciousness, yanking it through a dead-black corridor into a featureless chamber of horrors that was cold as space and perfectly concealed within him. Trapped there, it replayed the murder of innocent children again and again and again and again. Lucinda in that bleak wintry woodland. Countless others whom the war had dismembered. Collateral damage…_he _had killed them unknowingly. Their brutal violation looped in an endless, keening shriek, as if his skull were locked inside an air-raid siren. _"Dead," _he sobbed…"_killed them all…killed them all…nothing but ashes…everything's dead…brokenbrokenbroken..."_

Duo twisted around, horrified by Heero's sudden transformation. "_Who_ did you kill?" he demanded. "I don't understand! What's happening to you!"

"Make it stop! _Make it stop_!" moaned Heero.

A devil's carousel inside his brain spun out of control, faster and faster, tilting and weaving as if it wanted to uproot itself from hell, fly up, and blot out the sun. No festive colors adorned it. No laughing children rode wooden horses. Instead, children's broken bodies whipped up and down, dancing to the shriek of a gibbering calliope. They whirled about like vengeful ghosts and glared at him through the garish neon of the diabolical carnival. Images of tattered frocks, bloody limbs, tiny, torn bodies, and blank, dead eyes swirled through him. The calliope spewed out an eternally banal, Satanic tune in triple meter and it bounced around like a squash ball inside his skull—_Ooompahpahclangclangclang… Ooompahpahclangclangclang … Ooompahpahclangclangclang…_another endless waltz...

Duo stiffened and looked at his suffering partner in horror. Panicked, he stared directly into Heero's eyes and gasped out, "Oh sweet Jesus! What's wrong, Heero!"

Blind instinct thrust him to his lover's side, so quickly he scarcely seemed to move. Throwing himself down beside the bed, he embraced Heero's trembling, exposed form. Duo's heart was pounding and fear overwhelmed him. He called out to Heero: "Heero, _please!_ The last time this happened, I lost you for two years. I almost lost you forever. This can't be happening again! It can't!"

A vision of St. Sebastian, his martyr's body wounded and bleeding from the sting of myriad arrows, snapped into Duo's mind. But Heero's wounds were internal and it was his psyche that was spewing blood. The words spilled out of Duo without conscious thought: "Heero! Don't go! Not there, Heero! Not again!"

_Ashes to ashes we all fall down…_

Heero stared blankly at the ceiling. _"I can't stand it! They are all dead! I did it! PUNISH ME!"_ he pleaded rawly to his unseen lover.

Horrified, Duo thought_, 'What if Pavlov weren't just a scientist who conditioned a dog to drool when it heard a bell? What if he were a monster who used his dog amorally, yet never paid a price? What if Pavlov's dog was self-aware? What if Pavlov's dog had been trained to kill yet had a pure heart? What if Pavlov's dog had a brilliant mind and a conscience and a will to atone for its sins? What then?'_

Acting on purest instinct, he shook Heero's shoulders and choked out, "NO! I will _not_ hurt you! You don't _deserve_ to be hurt, Heero!"

He moved his face close to Heero's. "Heero," he pleaded, "come back to me. I'm here."

Duo stroked Heero's cheek. With all the warmth he was able to muster in his voice, he repeated, "I'm here."

Slowly, Heero's shaking lessened, and he took a few shuddering breaths. "Duo?" he said weakly, finally able to look into his partner's eyes.

"I'm here, Heero," came the simple, perfect reply.

Heero reached out and gently pulled Duo, still fully clothed, next to him on the bed. Heero looked exhausted. He took a wobbly breath and tossed his head as if to expel the darkness. He looked at Duo and gave a tired sigh. "Uugh! That was a bad one._ Really_ bad. Every time I think I have this craziness under control, it turns out I really don't," he said shakily. "I keep wondering if it's ever going to stop."

"It's getting better, isn't it?" asked Duo anxiously. "I mean, this time you're not going to run off to kill yourself or become a monk or something, are you?"

Heero gave Duo a wan smile. "No, not this time. Leaving you is the last thing on my mind right now. And I definitely do not want to die."

Duo's panic faded. His adrenaline high had worn off and he felt like he was going to sag into Heero like a rubber creature with no bones at all.

"There's a big difference between then and now. Now I look forward to seeing someone I love when I come home," continued Heero. He sighed softly, as if he were exorcising the horror from his brain by exhaling it into the cleansing light. "Now I can tell the difference between reality and the nightmares summoned by my broken conditioning. Each time I go through one of these episodes, I feel freer when it's finally over. It's as if part of the nightmare breaks off and disappears. It seems like it should all be gone someday. So yes, I think it's slowly getting better."

Duo stroked Heero's hair. "We'll get through this together, Heero. God knows, there's no shortage of garden-variety nightmares," he sighed. "It just _sucks_ that you have to have extra ones too. Fuck J. Just fuck him!"

Heero looked at Duo, hoping he would understand. "Duo, sometimes it takes me a while to come down after a really bad attack," said Heero, still somewhat shaky. "This is the first brutal one I had since I was at the monastery. When I lost control back there, the monks thought I was an imperfect student. You've never seen a group of people with so little tolerance for bullshit! They could give a good goddamn about my past brainwashing and behavioral modification conditioning. It's old news to them because they sort of invented the technique millennia ago. Science finally proved that meditation really does change how your brain is wired, but the monks had always known that it worked. I just wish it had been powerful enough to undo what J had done to me."

Duo chuckled weakly at the mental image Heero's remark invoked. Monks and bullshit just didn't seem to mix. And monks with soldering irons working on brains? It was enough to make him feel giddy, although the adrenaline crash had already accomplished that.

"I'm sure it was that poor murdered child who set it off this time," sighed Heero. "And that little torn up toy dog was just the icing on the cake."

The usually talkative Duo sensed that Heero needed to unburden himself. He sat quietly rubbing Heero's shoulders and just listened.

"Duo, I want to tell you about something strange," Heero said. "Ever since the war I've been haunted by the ghost of a little girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. During a firefight with OZ, I killed her and her young dog by accident. Now her ghost sometimes appears in my dreams. She's not a scary ghost—she's just sort of poignant and sad. Her puppy is always with her. Maybe the dog's a ghost too."

Heero frowned, as if disgusted by his weakness. "A girl and her puppy. It sounds like a picture that should be on some frilly greeting card," he said. "Or maybe in a shoujo manga. But I think her ghost is angry at me—it's been years now but she won't leave me alone and move on."

"I don't believe in ghosts," responded Duo. "Even Shinigami was never more than just the berserker part of me. I _do_ believe in the power of guilt, though. It's so supercharged that you could run an entire colony on it! You know what I think? I think that little girl's just another memory your unconscious mind uses to beat you up."

Heero looked sad. "Someone needs to remember her, Duo," he said.

"Yeah, Heero—but there's a big difference between honoring her memory and torturing yourself over her," replied Duo. "Maybe it's something you should mention the next time you talk to Father Wernicke. After all, he's been a military chaplain. He's more likely to understand how much accidental killings can torture your conscience when you're a soldier who tries to hold onto his honor."

Duo looked wistfully at his partner. "I think most soldiers carry ghosts around in their heads," he said. "I'm here to tell you that I have a few of my own. After a while I think they just become part of you, 'cuz that what they really were all along."

For a short time both young men were content to just lie together quietly, with Duo's arms around Heero. Heero's heart rate slowed and he allowed himself to relax as he accepted the fact that his panic attack was truly over. As Duo felt his lover's mood lighten he said, "Well Heero, I guess we made it through another one. I feel good—sorta like I did when we came back from kicking OZ ass and I felt invincible 'cuz I knew we'd beaten the odds again." He flashed his patented grin at his partner. "I'm here to tell ya that there's nothing like surviving massive panic and total chaos to make ya feel all alive and tingly!"

Heero looked seriously at his lover. "While we were riding back, I had some time to think," he said. "The monks taught me that all life was sacred because even the lowest forms of life can eventually reach higher levels through multiple reincarnations. Although I was unable to find a solution for my own problems through Buddhism, its teachings about the sanctity of life felt true to me.

"That experience back there in the woods hit me very hard, even though two years earlier I would have shrugged it off," he continued. "You know something? I want out of the death industry. I don't want to consort with death myself and I don't want to bring it to others. I had way too much of that in the war. I simply don't want to see any more corpses in the course of business, even if we're on the side of the angels. So I was pondering whether I really wanted to be a Preventer."

"What do you mean, Heero?" asked Duo anxiously.

"It seems to me that sweeping and salvage isn't such a bad career," observed Heero. "It's different every day. And if we went back into space, we could use our piloting skills again, but with one huge difference—nobody would be shooting beam cannons at us!"

Duo paused to think. _This_ was unexpected.

"Well of course _I_ like doing that kind of work," he finally replied. "And I think I agree with you about the Preventers. It's probably time to retire Shinigami permanently. Hang up his jersey and get him outta here. Salvage can be a little dangerous, but mostly if you get careless. I think it's way safer than being in the Preventers, 'cause sooner or later someone's gonna be shooting at us again. And I don't want to lose you. I don't even want to _think_ about losing you."

"Noin and Une aren't going to like it," said Heero. "And I think Wufei is going to be really angry considering that he pulled all those strings for us."

"Granted, they gave us a chance, and we owe them a lot. I just hope they understand that we're together now, so we have a lot more to lose," replied Duo. "I think we just have to be forthright about your PTSD. _Everyone _in the military understands it. We need to spell out how you've changed and why Preventer work was a bad idea for you right now."

"Admitting that to them is going to be very hard for me," said Heero. "But you can't cover up my lapses forever. It's obvious from today's events that I still have some healing to do and it's clear that a military job is the wrong thing for me right now. PTSD is a like a bill collector who keeps showing up at your front door even though you thought you'd paid in full. You never quite know when you've paid off all of the interest."

Duo responded by giving his lover a quick hug. "It takes a lot of guts to stand up in front of the world and tell everyone that you're not perfect anymore," he said.

"I never _was_ perfect," replied Heero. "I was just the perfect soldier. There's a huge difference. As time passes I understand it more and more."

Duo stroked Heero's hair, which was becoming its old unruly, sexy self after three months of growth. Duo liked it that way. He was glad that the Preventers hadn't required military haircuts—he would never have allowed his braid to be shorn.

"Anyway, I believe we've just made our decision," continued Heero. "When we think about our future, another thing to consider is that salvage pays well. I don't know if you've heard about genome fusion technology. It's brand new."

"I must have missed that one," replied Duo.

"From what I understand, two males can now father a child together," said Heero. All the lab needs is two semen samples and a lot of science, and nine months later, there's an infant to take home and raise. I thought we might want to do it in a few years, once we're sure that my PTSD is under control for good. Some people consider it akin to what Dr. Frankenstein did in those silly old movies you like, but early results have been promising. There seems to be no psychological trauma and the children do just fine when two parents of the same gender raise them. It's still _really_ expensive, though, so we'd have to make good money and put a lot of it away."

Duo's violet eyes got shiny and intense. "Heero," he sighed, "I'd love that so much! I think that Father Maxwell taught me by example how I could become a good father. I hope I'm right."

He grinned at Heero. "And furthermore, I volunteer to help you extract your sample. Of course, that's only if you help me get mine. I can just see us in some cozy romantic little booth with fluorescent lighting, two plastic cups and a bunch of totally useless girly magazines! _Dog-eared_ girly magazines. With funny stains. And photos I don't even want to _think_ about! Lions and tigers and beavers, oh my!"

Heero smiled back at his braided partner and kissed his cheek. It was clear that something else had entered his mind besides career opportunities or dam-building, flat-tailed rodents. "Stay right there, Duo," he commanded. "Don't even _think_ about moving."

Disentangling himself from Duo, Heero stood up from the bed and strolled over to his duffel bag, casually naked. Duo often wondered how it was possible for Heero to be so oblivious to his own beauty. He wolf-whistled and hooted "Hey, hot stuff! You could give a guy a heart attack, runnin' around with all those muscles and that tight butt! Better be careful, or someone's gonna jump ya!"

Heero tore through his duffel bag, finally finding the item he was searching for. Duo got the full frontal treatment as Heero sauntered back to the bed and opened a little white box.

Duo was obviously enjoying the view, a fact not lost on his partner. "Sit up, you perv," growled Heero with mock seriousness. Duo sat up and, before Heero could dodge out of the way, he kissed the end of Heero's nose. In return, Heero rewarded him with one of his rare, full-on grins. He then reached out for Duo's face, and placed one hand on each of Duo's warm cheeks, gently steering Duo's gaze straight into his intense cobalt eyes.

"We spent a lot of time together during the war," said Heero. "After a two-year absence—which was far too long—we have been with each other almost constantly for the last three months. We've come to know each other well. During our time together, I have become more and more certain about something I want.

"I _was_ going to get you a ring," Heero continued. "But I decided that this was better. You gave me something precious of yours and now it's time for me to give something back."

Duo intuition told him to shut up for once, even if he had to bite his tongue to do it. He could feel that something important was about to happen.

Heero reached in the box and removed a gold cross on a fine chain that was nearly identical to the one Duo had given him at the monastery. He carefully threaded Duo's braid through the chain and then placed it around his neck. The cross gleamed in the light like a benediction.

Heero clasped his right hand into Duo's left. He said, "Duo, please consider this cross as both a symbol of your faith and a symbol of my love for you. I want you to remember today as the day when I asked you to marry me."

Duo's face lit up. "Heero, if that was a proposal, the answer's yes. YES! I'll be whatever you want me to be. I'll be the bride; I'll be the groom." He stopped and snickered for a moment. "Actually, if ya wanna be realistic, I'll probably be 'all of the above'. It'll depend on the mood. You've seen that I'm flexible…in _lots_ of ways. You _know _I'm creative. Whatever works for you works for me! I never thought you'd actually ask and I am _so_ happy!"

Duo pulled Heero to him and gave him a big, wet kiss. Its effect on Heero was lightning-quick and _very_ obvious. "Hey there, soldier boy," grinned Duo, "that thing wasn't _nearly_ so huge about two seconds ago. Is that big ol' thing just for me, or what?"

Heero looked into Duo's eyes. "You alone," he replied. Despite the playful mood, it sounded like an oath.

Rubbing the bulge in Duo's uniform with the palm of his right hand, Heero asked, "Are you sure you're not feeling light-headed? Could it be that your blood rushed from your brain to somewhere lower? Or am I the only one with that problem?"

Duo chortled and said, "Yeah Heero—this is a serious medical emergency. Call the ambulance! Turn on those spinning red lights! Crank up the siren! Ya better loosen my clothes before the family jewels get crushed and I pass out. In fact, for the sake of protecting my delicate health, you'd better get those clothes off me right now. Hurry, before it's too late! I think I'm a goner! Heero—save me! Gaaaakkk!"

Heero discovered that playing doctor was fun, although his professional facade crumbled as soon as his patient dared to kiss him again, _hard._ He made short work of Duo's belt and the buttons on his shirt. In a few moments they were naked in each other's arms, celebrating their betrothal.

Questions floated through the night.

Who can explain how such a familiar joining can feel so different each time it happens? Perhaps it's the little details—the pressure of a caress; the scent of a body's natural musk; the pattern that tongues make when they duel in the heat of a kiss and caress every secret opening and portal, ignoring propriety or rationality or convention.

Why did Duo need to be filled with Heero, lost in him and owned by him, and to be locked to his partner's eyes when Heero took him? How did their touch become a barrier that insulated them briefly from the world's harshness?

Why did they grow dizzy, as if the room had vanished and they were floating in a realm of pure sensation? How did Heero's essence satisfy Duo so fully when Heero gasped and shuddered and spewed?

What to make of this night when Heero first allowed himself to be taken completely—to let Duo fill him; to be lost in Duo's eyes and to drown in them; to feel Duo's thrusts inside his body; to be bound together by their mutual release?

How did this night differ from the others—the first fumbling, clumsy couplings during the war; the darkest of nights when love fought death to an uneasy standoff; the playful encounter under an airline blanket at 10,000 meters? The answer was simple: There was finally balance in ecstasy and the two knew that their wedding vows were true:

"_I will love you as long as our lives drift like conjoined leaves on the river of souls. From this moment may its currents sweep us onward. May our spirits float on its calm waters and run wild through its rapids and cascades. May it carry us along through the days and nights of our existence until the moment when, in the fullness of time, we reach its end. May it then cradle us in its essence and carry us off with infinite gentleness into an endless sea of stars."_

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, the pair lay intertwined, naked and alive. It was late, and their joining seemed to have exorcised the ghosts of the innocent dead, if only for a moment.

Peace crept over them like an indigo shadow sneaking across a snow covered, moonlight meadow. It engulfed their tangled limbs as two gold chains melted together in the darkness. Heero laid his head on Duo's chest and the braided boy's fingers caressed Heero's unruly hair. Duo's new cross glistened on his chest next to Heero and it occurred to Duo that he could easily worship both, each in a different way.

Duo's voice snuck into Heero's sleepy consciousness like a lullaby or the cadence of a medieval hymn. "Rest easy, Heero," whispered Duo, as Heero's breathing slowed and steadied. Ever so gently, Duo rested his palm on Heero's cheek.

"I'm here," he said.

"I'm here."

~End~

**Acknowledgements:**

Thanks to Bonnejeanne, FractalForge, and Vonecia (in alphabetical order) for helpful and detailed C&C of the original version of this story. Because it has been revised extensively since then, the author bears sole responsibility for any added errors.

Reviews are welcome. Thanks for reading.


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